Realization day
by TheUnwelcomeVisitor
Summary: Clark realizes something… I suck at summaries. Chlark but not necessarily romantic… unless people want me to continue…
1. Chapter 1

**Title:**Realization day

**Author:** TheUnwelcomeVisitor

**Disclaimer:** All characters, references, and other things even remotely connected to 'Smallville' are property of someone else entirely. (Not me, just making it clear)

**Summary:** Clark realizes something… (I suck at summaries) Chlark but not necessarily romantic… unless people want me to continue…

**W****ord Count:** around 750?

**Written:**

I am an asshole.

I shouldn't even be allowed to breathe the same air as Chloe Sullivan.

I realized that today.

We were walking down the hallway in school, talking about our English paper, or something like that. Pete was there too, not saying much, mostly keeping an eye out for everything female and potentially date-worthy. Chloe was smiling, one of her thousand-watt smiles that screams Chloe, a smile you live to see. She was smiling, I remember that clearly. Why? Because she wasn't a minute later. And it was my fault.

_Clark, I really need help with my paper…_

Lana Lang walked in, right in front of me. My eyes became glued to her immediately.

…_and I thought, you know, you could help me with it._

A vision of unrequited love. The women I have been yearning for as long as I can remember.

_Clark?_

As she turned to look at me with those beautiful hazel eyes I nearly lost it. She smiled, and I thought it was meant for me. My knees went weak.

_Clark? Please answer…_

But it wasn't for me. Of course, she almost never even noticed me. Her boyfriend walked up from somewhere behind me. Whitney, school quarterback and probably the most popular kid in school.

…_I really need your help._

And they kissed. It was only a gentle brush of the lips, but it hit me like a freight train. He was kissing her, and a flame of jealousy started blazing in my chest. He was kissing her, and I wasn't.

_Clark?_

I stood there petrified. Frozen to the spot as they smiled at each other. I wanted to be Whitney so bad. In that moment I think I would have killed to be in his place. But I never will be.

_It's no use Chloe. He's too busy Lana lusting to actually hear you. Let's go._

_Yeah…_

The bell rung for first hour. I didn't hear it. I was mesmerized by Lana's retreating back. She was walking away from me, and it hurt. Like a punch in the gut, it hurt.

As I roused my self from my Lana induced daydream I realized I was alone. As I turned around I saw a glimpse of my friends before they turned a corner.

And the world slowed down. For the first time ever I went into the state of heightened awareness, I usually only did when I super-speeded, without actually moving. Usually it meant I could dodge cars, probably even catch bullets in my hands.

Now? Now it meant that the agonizing glimpse of my departing friends seemed to last an hour.

Chloe's shoulders was slumped, she looked dejected, betrayed. Hurt, as I never wanted to see her, ever again. Pete just looked back at me, a sad expression on his face, and shook his head as if I just done something inconceivably stupid.

And it struck me. It struck me harder than Lex Porsche did, the day on the bridge.

The words that I had heard, but not listened to, hit me like a ton of bricks.

I had. I had done something inconceivably stupid. I had hurt Chloe Sullivan. I had ignored her. I had ignored her because I couldn't keep my eyes of Lana Lang. I had hurt, and ignored, and betrayed her, when she needed my help. And worse, I had done it without thinking.

And this wasn't the first time.

The words echoed in my mind, and I knew they were the truth. How many times had I stood lusting for Lana? How many times had I unthinking turned my back on Chloe when Lana came by? How many times had I hurt her like this? More importantly, how could she still treat me like a friend, when I treated her like dirt?

All this raced trough my mind as they had disappeared from view. But one thought lingered, after the others had rushed by leaving fiery streaks of pain, lingered and grew. Grew until it filled my mind.

She was walking away from me. And it hurt. It hurt like nothing had before it.

She was walking away from me. And it was my fault.

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R&R! I wrote this while I had a creative dry streak on one of my other stories, so I don't really know how it turned out.

Depending on if I get any reviews I could probably carry on writing a second chapter ( Especially seeing as I already have one scetched out in my mind.) Actually I might continue even if no one reviews, but...

Hope you enjoy, and once again R&R!

//TheUnwelcomeVisitor


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2.

Clark lay on his couch in his Fortress of Solitude. For the first time in his life he felt sick.

Outside the sky was dark, and the night air filled with the sounds of rural Kansas sleeping. He didn't hear it. His parents had called for him. He hadn't heard that either.

The loft was dark, no lights were on, and he had no need for any. Because he didn't even notice the darkness. He didn't see it. All he saw was her face. He had tried picturing the smile that he had seen so clearly only this morning, the smile he had seen for as long as he had known her. The smile he would give his left arm to see again. But it didn't show. Instead he saw her face as he had seen it only a fraction of a second. And it plagued him. Her face, hurt and betrayed, staring at him, sent shivers down his soul.

He stared unseeing into the darkness. He had tried closing his eyes to end the vision of her pain. It hadn't worked. The images had tenfolded. Now he lay there, silent and unmoving, to afraid to blink.

He had avoided her all day. He knew that he didn't have the courage to look into her eyes.

He knew he wouldn't see anything he hadn't seen before. And it was that which made him fear it. Either her hurt was there, plain to be seen, and he had never seen it and never would. Looked into her eyes, laughing with her, never noticing he hurt her at every turn. Or, and he couldn't decide which was worse, it wasn't there, but hidden from his eyes. It scared him worse than looking into her eyes and seeing her pain. To see only what he always saw, or had seen, knowing what she hid behind her eyes. Hiding it, being his friend, even though he dragged her emotions in the dirt, ignoring her. He didn't think he could stand that. No, he knew he couldn't stand that.

So he lay in his Fortress, knowing she was right now struggling with her paper. Struggling because he wasn't there for her. Wasn't there when she needed his help. Knowing that only intensified his pain, and parts of him screamed for him to rush over there and help her, face her gaze and his problem. He had tried to sum up the strength to rise and do just that, only to fall back down into the couch. The vision of her pain sucked his strength from him in a way even meteor rock couldn't match.

Eyes brimming with unshed tears he lay staring, unblinking, at her face in the darkness.

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Jonathan Kent was starting to worry. He wasn't usually a worrier, that being the role his wife took upon herself to play, but having called out for Clark several times sowed a seed of worry in his mind. Ordinarily he wouldn't even have to shout once, since Clark would come running as soon as the food left the oven. Or if the aroma from the kitchen smelled unusually appetizing, which was saying something, since Martha's usual cooking would be appreciated even at a five star restaurant; he would just feel a rush of wind and turn around to see Clark sitting expectantly at the table, fork ready in his hand.

Any notion he had that Clark had just been busy in the loft was dismissed as he saw him shuffling dejectedly out of the barn, his face a mask of misery. As he met his gaze the seed of doubt sprouted into a full-fledged tree. As he met Clark's gaze something flickered in his son's eyes and made him flinch. He immediately realized the meaning behind the flicker of emotion. Unrecognized, his face had for a moment not been what Clark had seen. But what had he seen in its place?

As Clark collapsed against his shoulder, wrapping his arms around him in a desperate embrace, his worries once again multiplied. Clark's body shook in silent sobs as he clutched Jonathan as if he was the only thing keeping him standing.

"What is it, son?" Jonathan asked in a soft voice, awkwardly patting Clark's back.

"I think I've… hurt someone." Clark said, desperately trying to hold back tears.

For a moment Jonathans worries grew into a forest. Hurt someone? Since they decided to take care of Clark this was what Jonathan had feared. If Clark took a tiny step wrong he could, almost certainly, hurt or even kill someone by accident. And if someone tried to turn his son into a lab-rat Jonathan could fight it, would fight it. But how could he protect his son from accidents? He had awoken screaming after nightmares of something like this happening. But then the rational part of his mind silenced the mounting sense of panic. If Clark had hurt someone like that he wouldn't need to add 'I think'. He would know.

And then the meaning of Clark's words finally dawned on him.

"I think we should go inside. Your mother is better equipped to this than I am." Jonathan said, fervently wishing he was right. He was far out on uncharted territory here.

In the back of his mind he realized he was as ill equipped to deal with ordinary teenager problems as he was to the prospect of Clark crushing someone's spine as he gave them a pat on the back.

Strangely this didn't help his mood at all.

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Happily Martha Kent seemed better suited for the task in hand. As she sternly sent the dejected Clark of to wash his hands before dinner her husband gave her the little information he had. She smiled, her face unreadable, at his worried face before sending him of to join his son. As Jonathan washed his hands he sent a heartfelt thank you to the man above. Martha hadn't even seemed visibly concerned by the problem. He, himself, couldn't be happier than he was handing the problem to his wife.

Even though his stomach growled and the smell of food nearly drove him insane he dragged his feet as he walked back to the kitchen. He really didn't want to get involved in this. Especially since he felt like one more shocking surprise would lead to a heart attack and an early grave. He still couldn't get the recurring nightmare of Clark hurting or killing someone out of his head.

As he neared the kitchen snatches of conversation became audible. He had hurt someone. Ok, knew that. Emotionally? Is that good or bad? Better than killing someone? Definitely. He was afraid to face her? He hurt a girl? Who? Afraid to lose a friend?

In his mind the connection took some time. Friend. Girl. _Chloe._

He had hurt Chloe. Now, Jonathan had always tried to be nice to all the people Clark hung around with, but he genuinely liked Chloe Sullivan. It was impossible for him not to. Even with the inquisitive streak he knew was going to be a problem Chloe struck him as one of the people who would stay on Clark's side no matter what. And sometimes she kind of reminded him of another Metropolis girl he had grew to like. The thought of someone hurting her felt…wrong. He felt an almost paternal wrath engulf him. The fact that it was his son hurting her was not important. If anything it made him even more furious. Clark should know better.

As he listened to brief snatches of the rest of the conversation he managed to piece together roughly what had happened. It didn't make him any happier.

For a moment he had to restrain himself from rushing in screaming his head of. Instead he waited. And waited some more. Until finally Martha noticed him lurking just out of sight, how she did he never knew, and called him over.

Joining the others at the dinner table he felt thankful the conversation drifted of Clark's problems and unto mundane easily solved problems like how to find money to keep the farm running and the family eating. Clark almost looked himself again and volunteered some information on how school was going.

It seemed the incident had been entirely forgotten. At least it had seemed, if it hadn't been for the barely hidden discomfort and the moments of silent staring beetween father and son.

As the dinner drew to an end Clark fidgeted in his seat. Finally gathering courage he ultimately managed to squeeze out a question.

"Aren't you going to say something?" He asked in a nervous voice, obviously expecting him to yell at him.

Jonathan thought for a moment. So that's how it is, is it? His mother for comfort, advice and understanding, and his father for furious yelling? He smiled. _It fits me perfectly_. His smile disappeared.

"Just this; I don't know exactly what you did, and I don't want to know. But if it happens again, if you hurt… I…" His voice had risen to a near yell, and it took some effort to force it back down. "… I will personally duct-tape a meteor rock to your forehead and hand her a bat." As he said it he was surprised, he had meant every word. Hurting Chloe had obviously triggered some things best left alone.

Martha looked at him, shocked that he would say something like that. Clark just met him stare for stare.

He might be a nearly invincible alien with the ability to bench a tractor and run cross county in a minute, but against his fathers steel hard gaze he fell short. He looked away.

"Trust me, if I ever do I'll hand her the bat myself."

Looking into his eyes and seeing the remembered pain, barely kept inside, Jonathan believed him.

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R&R! Sorry it took so long.

//TheUnwelcomeVisitor


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3.

Early dawn crept over Smallville. Clark didn't feel the chill as he stood in the pale morning sunshine, silently watching. Watching her house. He didn't know why he had come here. Usually he didn't have time for anything after doing his chores. Usually he even missed the bus. But now he stood here watching her house in the gray light of dawn. Thankfully the talk with his mother had exorcized some demons and he had been able to sleep a little. Her face hadn't left him much rest however, since he had dreamed of her the entire night.

Suddenly he heard the bus coming around a corner, ripping him from his contemplations. And no Chloe in sight. As if thinking her name had summoned her, she appeared in a window, both hands clutching a giant coffee mug and hair still wet from the shower. In the brief moment before she noticed the bus arriving he drank in the sight of her. Hair plastered to her face and a serene look in her eyes, the new vision of her replacing the one plaguing him. Giving a startled yelp she dropped the mug and disappeared from view. Clark nearly laughed as she appeared outside the front door, slamming the door shut behind her as she ran to the bus stop. For the first time since the sudden realization yesterday he felt like himself. Chloe never ran. That were one of the two facts everyone soon learned about Chloe Sullivan. One, she never ran. Two, she drinks coffee like it was the only thing keeping her alive.

Suddenly something hit him. As she dropped the mug it had been full. Chloe hadn't had her morning coffee.

Realizing he still had a couple of minutes before the bus reached his stop he started running.

Leaving the Sullivan residence behind him he crossed a couple of fields so fast the corn rippled behind him in the sudden draft. Reaching the Kent farm he sped into the kitchen without slowing, causing his mother who had been in the process of scrambling eggs for breakfast, to drop her frying pan, the hot iron falling towards her feet. Absentmindedly catching the hot frying pan in his hand, inches from her fingers, he started looking for a mug.

As his mother took the frying pan, mumbling something under her breath as she did, he found an empty Beanery mug he could use. Pouring coffee as fast as was humanly possible he heard the distant bus. Finishing the coffee he rushed, normal speed, out the door. Turning back he took the sandwich his mother, smiling amused at him, silently held out towards him. Returning her smile with a beaming grin, he crammed roughly half the sandwich into his mouth, grabbed his backpack, and ran on. Reaching the bus stop seconds before the bus he smiled, still chewing, at the driver. Smiled at the passengers who were closest and made his way back to where his friends sat.

Seeing Pete smiling at him he smiled back, and silently offered him half the sandwich. Pete gratefully took it, not wanting to pass up the chance to sample Martha Kent's culinary skills.

"What's up with her?" Clark asked, pointing to Chloe who sat hiding her face in her hands next to Pete, even though he already knew the answer.

"Didn't get her coffee this morning." Pete answered, grinning around the sandwich he already had taken a bite of.

"Please stop saying that. I'm fine; I just need time to wake up." Chloe said from beneath her hands. As she did she broke out in a huge yawn.

"No, you need coffee. I can tell since you nearly dislocated your own jaw yawning." Clark said smiling, the troubles of yesterday momentarily forgotten.

Groaning Chloe pressed her face harder into her hands. Claiming the empty seat in front of her Clark chuckled. Pete just chewed; Martha Kent's food tends to occupy the mind.

Frowning he asked; "Doesn't Chloe get a sandwich, too?"

"Yeah, why not me?" A whisper came from under Chloe's hands.

"Because I've got something better for her." Clark said, taking the steaming coffee cup and moved it in front of Chloe's face.

A green eye peered out between her fingers. Slowly she lowered her hands looking unbelieving at the cup in front of her eyes. The focus and the expression made both Clark and Pete grin.

"You got coffee?" Chloe asked unbelieving. Then her face broke out in a huge smile. "I Love you! Give me!" As he held it out of her reach, laughing, she pouted. This made her look both stupid and so beautiful that it seemed unreal. Freezing mid-laugh he realized possibly for the first time that his best friend was beautiful. Shaking of the surprise this realization brought him let him relax just in time to meet her question.

"How did you know I didn't get my coffee?"

He knew he had to lie, which usually made him stiffen up and avoid meeting people's eyes. But looking into those green eyes and having her smiling at him made everything seem easy. Lying seemed natural, no stammer, no hesitation, nothing. The only thing that was hard was keeping his head above the surface as he drowned in her eyes.

_Her eyes._ He was looking into her eyes, and he wasn't afraid. Because he saw no pain as he looked into them and he knew he wouldn't. Not now. Not because she hid it and not because he couldn't see it. Simply because, right now, there weren't any pain. And he realized he would do anything to keep it that way.

"Disturbance in the Force." He said grinning widely, giving her a full dose of what she with affection called the Kent charm. Grinning in answer, she gave him a glowing laugh that made his spirits lift.

"No seriously. Why coffee today?" She was still smiling but her eyes showed him she wouldn't drop it. And that look in Chloe's eyes always led to her getting her answers. Always. He actually had nightmares of that look and some pointed questions about his origins.

"Actually, it's a peace offering. Since I was such a jerk yesterday and didn't help you with the English paper…" His rather smooth lie was abruptly cut of by Chloe's panicked voice.

"The English Paper." She didn't even scream. She managed to convey a full dose of screaming panic with three calmly spoken words. And, of course, a grimace of jaw dropping horror.

"You forgot?" Chloe just nodded. "No problem. We still got mine. Ten seconds in the Torch copy room and a name change and no one will ever know." Smiling he handed her the coffee. She just stared at him, momentarily stunned speechless. He chuckled; if Chloe was speechless for any reason, even if it was a simple lack of caffeine, you enjoyed it, simply because of the rarity of the moment. That was probably the third thing you learned about Chloe, she was never speechless. In fact she was nearly never silent at all.

"Or you could go with mine you know." Pete said, obviously feeling a little forgotten. Clark looked at him and grinned.

"That's a great idea. Then you won't even have to change the name." At Pete's confused expression he continued; "Oh come on Pete. You know she never bothers to read your papers." Looking at Chloe he added. "She does like any sensible person would. Gets rid of them as soon as possible." Flicker of a smile on Chloe's lips. All of them knew that there were no love between the English teacher and Pete. Feeling encouraged Clark waited for Pete's obvious reply.

"Hey, my papers don't go in the trash." Pete said defensively, even though they all knew there was a good chance they did.

"Trash? Who said anything about the trash?" Clark smiled, it weren't often he got the best of either of his friends, and now both of them at once? It felt good, even though in Chloe's case his advantage was probably caused by the lack of coffee more than any impression his joke had made. "She doesn't use the trash for your work. Yours get the full-blown vampire treatment. Stake trough the title page before burning it and spreading the ashes. No chance of resurrection." Chloe laughed at that, and after a while even Pete joined in. Spirits lifted Clark simply smiled, making it as comfortable as he possibly could in the slightly too small seat.

Leaning against the window, one arm hanging over the back of the seat and one leg lazily stretched out on the seat next to his, Clark felt content. The laughter had cleared the air and a lot of the tension he hadn't even known he felt had eased.

He was surprised to feel the soft touch of Chloe's hair on his neck as she leaned against his arm, probably half asleep. He let her lean against him for a while simply because it felt good to have her leaning against him. Suddenly she dropped the coffee out of a limp hand. He caught it in midair and looked down on her. At the movement of his arm she snuggled in closer and he realized she had fallen asleep on his arm. Pete looked at her and chuckled softly.

"Let her sleep for a while. She told me she spent half the night on the damn English paper."

With a pang of guilt he realized he couldn't wake her now. After all, it was his fault she was so tired. Trying to relax he settled in to wait for the bus to reach school.

After ten minutes, and the school was coming up on the horizon, he was nearing insanity. Chloe had snuggled even closer, putting her head on his shoulder, and her even breath on his neck was… pleasant. The truth was he enjoyed it to much. It felt unbelievably good, and the fact his arm was pressed to her body in an effort to keep her from falling of her seat didn't help things.

Five minutes earlier he had tried moving his head into a more comfortable position. That had been a mistake. Big mistake. First her breath had hit his neck, and made the small hairs on the back of his neck rise, as well as sending shivers down his spine. Trying to redeem that he had moved to far the other way, getting an incredibly sexy moan from Chloe and a warm breath down the front of his shirt as her face fell forwards unto his chest.

For the last five minutes he had sat unmoving in his seat trying to will down an erection, and hopelessly failing, with her moan echoing in his mind. And to make matters worse he was now afraid to blink, as everytime he closed his eyes he saw her. Saw her moaning, gasping and calling his name in a multitude of different situations.

He involuntarily blinked. Groaning he realized he now had no chance getting rid of this erection, ever. And also that he could never look at syrup in quite the same way.

And worst of all was the fact that amongst all the thoughts that had been circulating in his mind for the last ten minutes; _She's your Best Friend, you got to stop!_ had been suspiciously absent, while thoughts about how beautiful she looked sleeping in his arms where uncountable. And he desperately needed the best friend thought, because he felt himself slipping further and further away from being able to look at her and only seeing his best friend.

As the bus pulled up next to the school parking lot he breathed out a sigh of relief. Gently trying to remove his arm failed when her sleeping form grabbed it in a rather determined grip. Chloe obviously didn't want to lose her pillow. Seeing her clinging to him Pete grinned and, without a word, left him, along with everybody else in the bus.

Alone in the back of the bus he once again tried to disentangle his arm from her grasp, without success. Whispering her name, likewise, proved unsuccessful as it didn't get her to wake up, although it seemed to make her smile. Looking into her half-closed eyes he cupped her cheek carefully with his free hand and fought the urge to trace a finger along her jaw line.

"Chloe, wake up. Please!" the last word came out almost a soft shout. But it had the desired effect. Still smiling Chloe's eyes fluttered open. Hiding a small yawn behind her hand she looked up at him, still half asleep.

"Hi." Looking around she seemed confused. "Where's Pete? Where is everyone?"

Her head still on his shoulder Clark shuddered. Every word she spoke in that half asleep breathless voice, breath brushing his neck, was like a file against his spine._ I swear… if she decides to stretch…I don't even know what I'll do…probably faint._

"They left. We're kind of the last ones." He swallowed past the lump in his throat, she still hadn't moved. "You were asleep and I…well, I was your pillow." _She really has to stop the deep breathing… _

"My pillow…I like the sound of that." Yawning she closed her eyes and lowered her head to his shoulder again. Still more than half asleep she mumbled;"I love you, you know…"

Clark smiled. Suddenly her eyes snapped open and her head shot up so fast she nearly fell of her seat. As he saw the look of panic spread across her features he couldn't help but grinning widely. She seemed to be in genuine panic, even though she hadn't let go of his arm.

"I didn't mean…I…Please forget I ever spoke." Looking away, not willing to meet his gaze, she blushed. Seeing her discomfort he decided to let her of the hook.

"Look… You haven't slept, you haven't had your coffee yet and I bet you haven't eaten anything either." She looked warily at him as he nudged her with the cup. "Drink some. It's cold and it comes in a plastic cup, but the caffeine may help clear your head." She took the cup and drank some; even if it was accompanied by a grimace he could swear she looked better afterwards. _As if it is possible she could look better right now…_

Grinning from ear to ear she drained half the cup, and soon she looked like the usual slightly hyper Chloe he knew and lov…liked. Mumbling into the cup she nonetheless managed to convey the words; "Yeah, it definitely was the lack of coffee talking." The words cut trough the jumble of emotions clouding his mind like a knife. It made him wonder if he had wanted her to mean it.

In an effort to hide his confused emotions he helped her to her feet.

"Okay, now we have made sure that you are in no way responsible for what you say when not on the influence of caffeine, I guess we should get off the bus. Since by the look of it the drivers kind of pissed to be kept waiting." Taking her unresisting hand he led her of the bus.

"But if you think I will forget what you said…You realize I could this over your head for, like, forever?" Clark said as they emerged into the fresh sunlight, grinning widely once again.

With a groan she hid her face in her hands, and the sight of this made him laugh. Hearing him laugh she elbowed him in the ribs, which only made him laugh harder. She made a sound of mock anger and kept punching him lightly until he wrapped her arms around her and pulled her close to his chest, pinning her arms against him. Arms flailing she kept up the resistance for a few moments, but now she was smiling, and as she gave up she said with a sigh; "I liked you better as a pillow."

"Is that how you see me? Pillow and bringer of caffinated beverages?" Clark said in mock surprise, easing the embrace a little so he could look her in the eye.

"That sounds about right. If I could fit in personal spellchecker and carrier of heavy stuff you could be the ideal man for me." Leaning her head against his shoulder she sniffed loudly. "That is, if I could ever get you to smell like something besides hay." But he did notice she didn't lift her head from his shoulder until they had entered the schools hallways.

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As usual, R&R!

If there is something I've learned since starting this, it is that I really can't write angsty Clark, so if thats what your after...

Next Chapter should be mainly Chloe's view on the same morning, but it's not really finished.

Hopefully I'll update soon.

//TheUnwelcomeVisitor


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4.

Chloe sighed. For once she felt totally alone sitting in a darkened Torch office, only illuminated by the computer screens pale glow. Usually she only felt the thrill of chasing a particular story or was too deep in work to think about anything else. Or Clark or Pete would keep her company, something she felt extremely grateful for, especially the times Clark would come alone to help her finish an especially difficult paper.

Outside the rain poured in sheets from the roof above, and the wind shock the windowpanes so they rattled. The weather was a long way from the beautiful sunlight that had greeted the day. According to Chloe that was very fitting, since the dark gloomy Torch was a big step from the bright day the morning had promised.

She had never thought she felt worse than she had done as the bus had made its way down past the Kent farm. She hadn't gotten a drop of caffeine since early the night before, which she had spent working on the English paper from hell. The paper was also the reason she hadn't gotten enough sleep either. Lack of sleep coupled with lack of caffeine had made her a wreck.

As Clark had stepped on the bus she had hid her face in her hands. He had spent the entire day before avoiding her, and she didn't want to find out why. Since her mind had already spun out a couple dozen reasons, none of which were pleasant, she had felt she could do without another. And then he had surprised her.

Turning up in front of her, he didn't only ask forgiveness for being a jerk and not helping her with the paper, but saved her day with a cup of caffinated heaven. And what had she done?

She had fallen asleep on his shoulder. She hadn't been meaning to, but she still shivered when she remembered how close he had been. Waking up to his smiling face looking down on her, his strong hand caressing her face…It could drive a girl insane just thinking about it, and it certainly had waking up to the blaring of an alarm clock beat hands down. Sighing, she hoped that she hadn't drooled on him at least. Pete had told her she had drooled like a pitbull, and considering what she had been dreaming about that wasn't that unlikely.

It had started out as one of the often reoccurring dreams involving Clark Kent that had beset her since the day they had met. Clark and her dancing on a cloud. Well, it was a dream, wasn't it?

It always started out the same. They were dancing, her head on his shoulder, feet barely touching the ground, and as she looked up she saw his smile beaming down on her, making her heart melt. He held his arms wrapped around her, and lowered his lips towards hers. Then everything always went wrong. Cutting trough the music, ruining her perfect moment and making him turn away was the voice she feared hearing, the voice that she had learned to connect with pain. The voice of Lana Lang. Even in her dreams the raven-haired girl managed to hold Clark's heart in her hand.

And, as he always did, he had pulled away from her, the attempted kiss forgotten. _Abandoning her for the girl of his dreams yet again_. Feeling him slipping from her grip even though she tried with all her strength to hold him close, she steeled herself for was what came after this. What always came after this. Clark and Lana embracing each other, lips locking in a perfect kiss. Except, this time, it didn't.

_As the bus pulled up next to the school parking lot he breathed out a sigh of relief. Gently trying to remove his arm failed when her sleeping form grabbed it in a rather determined grip. Chloe obviously didn't want to lose her pillow. Seeing her clinging to him Pete grinned and, without a word, left him, along with everybody else in the bus._

Instead of him slipping from her grip, he turned back. As his gaze fell on her she could swear she had felt her heart melt. Leaning in towards her once again, the famous Kent grin plastered over his face, she found herself once again in the deep embrace of the man she loved and was struck unmoving in shock. The dream had never gone like this before. But seeing his face inches from hers made her sure of one thing. Change was good, and she wouldn't dream of wasting it.

Closing her eyes, she leaned in to his embrace and awaiting his kiss. And felt him once again slipping from her arms, releasing her from the embrace and pulling his arms from her grasp. Shocked her eyes opened, fearing the dream was cruelly playing with her feelings and she would see him leaving her. _No, Not now!_

_Alone in the back of the bus he once again tried to disentangle his arm from her grasp, without success. Whispering her name, likewise, proved unsuccessful as it didn't get her to wake up, although it seemed to make her smile. Looking into her half-closed eyes he cupped her cheek carefully with his free hand and fought the urge to trace a finger along her jaw line. _

As she opened her eyes she saw his brilliant smile as he merely shifted position, pulling her even closer, until she was pressed full against his chest, heartbeat racing. Cupping her face in his free hand he leaned in once again, his breath hot against her face, lips slightly parted.

Pausing he gazed into her eyes, making her shiver, and breathed out a single word.

"Chloe."

The memory still made her shiver. Even though it had been just a beautiful dream, the word had sounded incredibly real.

"Chloe, wake up. Please!"

Chloe's eyes had fluttered open. Only to find herself staring directly into Clark Kent's eyes, inches from hers. The dream had vanished from her mind immediately. Her mouth had dropped open. He had been so damned close! Quickly raising her hand to her mouth she had hoped to disguise the open mouthed staring as a small yawn behind her hand as she looked up at him, eyes wide, still half asleep. Her brain couldn't decide if she was still dreaming or not. Her chin was pressed against his chest and she could almost hear his heart beating. _Why is my head on his shoulder? And why am I questioning what could possibly be the greatest moment of my life?_

She didn't even remember what she had said, her entire attention being focused on the feeling of having him this close. But it had been something on the lines of; _Where's everyone?_ Not that she had cared for the answer. Feeling secure in his arms she wouldn't have cared if the bus was on fire.

"They left. We're kind of the last ones." She could feel his chest move under her as he breathed. She was alone with Clark Kent. _How was that bad? He's in love with another girl. Yeah that's it._ But she was still not moving her head. "You were asleep and I…well, I was your pillow." H_e really has to stop the deep breathing… _

"My pillow…I like the sound of that" Yawning for real, she had closed her eyes and let her head rest on his shoulder. Still more than half asleep she had mumbled something, while being entirely true, she really hadn't meant to admit to anyone.

"I love you, you know…"

She had said it before, of course, even that very day as he handed her the coffee. But that had been different.

Meaning that she hadn't been pressed so intimately close to him she breathed in the scent of him with every breath. And she was pretty sure she hadn't said it in the same tone either.

She had known that this was the end; this was the end of friendship, the end of the bright smiles, and the end of his strong arms around her.

"I didn't mean…I…Please forget I ever spoke." Looking away, not willing to meet his gaze, she had blushed. She had been searching desperately for an escape. Not being able to stand his gaze, not daring to meet it, afraid to see the rejection or the disgust she pictured it containing.

And then, when she had needed an escape more than air to breath he had handed her one.

"Look… You haven't slept, you haven't had your coffee yet and I bet you haven't eaten anything either." She looked at him as he nudged her with the cup. Straight into his eyes. Nothing she was afraid and everything she had hoped had been shining from his eyes. "Drink some. It's cold and it comes in a plastic cup, but the caffeine may help clear your head." She took the cup and drank some; even if it was cold and in a plastic cup it was accompanied by the thing she needed most of all at that moment. An excuse.

Hiding her discomfort at her sudden confession behind a happy grin she had managed to mumble out words she would remember for ever.

"Yeah, it definitely was the lack of coffee talking."

Remember them because they where the greatest lie she had ever told.

"Okay, now that we have made sure that you are in no way responsible for what you say when not on the influence of caffeine, I guess we should get off the bus. Since by the look of it the drivers kind of pissed to be kept waiting." Taking her unresisting hand he had led her of the bus.

Seeing his untroubled expression, she knew he had believed it. And it made her feel like crying.

_I've told Clark Kent I Love him… And he doesn't even care…_

The thought had echoed in her mind, suffocating everything else.

But then he had surprised her once again.

"But if you think I will forget what you said…You realize I could this over your head for, like, forever?" Clark had said as they emerged into the fresh sunlight, flashing his perfectly white teeth and making her heart melt. Again.

With a groan she had hid her face in her hands, enduring the sound of his laughter. But she had been smiling into her hands, her troubles forgotten, as if the sound of his voice was magically making them disappear. She remembered making a sound of mock anger and punching him lightly until he wrapped her arms around her and pulled her close to his chest, pinning her arms against him. After that she remembered nothing. She had kept resisting for a few moments, not wanting him to know how easily she would surrender to his embrace. Or how willingly, especially after the recent declaration of her love.

"I liked you better as a pillow."

"Is that how you see me? Pillow and bringer of caffinated beverages?" Clark had said in mock surprise, easing the embrace alittle and looking her in the eye. Suddenly feeling the effects of both his gaze and the close proximity she had felt the need to hide behind the familiar façade of Snarky best friend.

"That sounds about right. If I could fit in personal spellchecker and carrier of heavy stuff you could be the ideal man for me." _As if you aren't already. _Leaning her head against his shoulder she sniffed loudly. And almost fainted because of a sensory overload. He smelled of fresh soap, newly cut grass, and something else entirely. Something that made her knees weak and her body tingle. "That is, if I could ever get you to smell like something besides hay." But she didn't lift her head from his shoulder until they had entered the schools hallways.

She hadn't planned to then either. In fact, as far as she had planned anything at that moment, she planned to stay as close as she could until he made an effort to remove her. _Voluntarily moving away from Clark's embrace? Not unless fire or physical pain was involved._

Allowing herself to drift of, daydreaming, she realized she had told Clark Kent she loved him and had walked trough the hallway doors to Smallville High with his arms wrapped around her.

But in the haze of hormones and daydreaming that had filled her mind; she had spotted something before Clark did. This in itself was strange, since even if you didn't count on his eagle-like eyesight, Clark would probably spot this particular person even in total darkness.

Lana Lang. The person that accomplished what would have taken either fire or imminent death to accomplish otherwise. She had left Clark's arms like he had been white-hot.

At first he had looked at her, confused. Then his head had turned towards _her_, drawn in her direction as metal to a magnet. She had looked away, unwilling to witness his face turning into the admiring mask it always donned when he looked at _her_.

"Clark, could you help me with my biology paper after school? Whitney's gone to Metropolis for the rest of the week and it's due tomorrow."

_Please! Lana Lang asking if Clark would be able to spend time alone with her while her boyfriend's out of town? _

Not wanting to hear him practically scream yes, she made as if to leave. Only to have him surprise her yet again.

Even now, several hours later, she couldn't believe what had happened.

No answer had come. Glancing at him, afraid to see him moonstruck beyond words, she had nearly swallowed her tongue in shock.

Faced with a moment he probably had waited for since he was five, he looked to her.

Looking into her eyes as if to ask permission, he kept his silence. When she was sure he would be jumping in joy to be able to hang around Lana, he looked at her.

Even now, several hours later, she couldn't believe what she had done.

Panicked by the sudden change of events, She had shrugged, as if to say; _I don't care._

Now the thought gave her no respite.

_She had let him walk away with Lana._

She sat alone in the dark while Clark was happily explaining basic biology to Lana Lang.

Because she had let him.

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Please R&R.

Nothing more to say really. Hope you like it.

//TheUnwelcomeVisitor


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